


i want you (pick me up)

by bunssodan



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Dressing Room Sex, Jihoon wears the PD101 Season 1 uniform, M/M, Oppa Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunssodan/pseuds/bunssodan
Summary: Woojin doesn’t even know where the hell Jihoon got it, but he’s dressed in a uniform that is terribly familiar. It’s the uniform that the girls wore during the first season of Produce 101, and how thefuckdoes Jihoon have it?





	i want you (pick me up)

There’s just something exhilarating when it comes to closed doors and dark rooms in between the bright white lights of the dressing rooms. There’s any moment that they could be discovered, and Woojin finds himself relishing in the very excitement of that possibility—that anyone could walk in, and it’s up to him as to whether they are found out or not.

Woojin doesn’t even know where the hell Jihoon got it, but he’s dressed in a uniform that is terribly familiar. He isn’t stupid, he knows a uniform when he sees one—the grey jacket, the shortest pink skirt, white collared shirt, and checkered tie. It’s the uniform that the girls wore during the first season of Produce 101, and how the  _ fuck  _ does Jihoon have it?

And the worst thing is that on top of the damn outfit, Jihoon has on a pair of thigh highs. It’s pure white, with a tiny pink ribbon adorned at the top of it, and it fits Jihoon’s thighs like it’s a second skin—and there’s just something about Jihoon in a fucking skirt, in fucking thigh highs that makes Woojin’s throat grow dry. It doesn’t even help that they are inside one of the old dressing rooms that no one else is using. The lock is barely holding on, and Woojin feels the thrill run down his spine at the possibility of being seen, of being discovered.

“So, how do I look?” Jihoon grins at him and adds on a tiny twirl. The motion is quick, and the momentum creates a gust of wind that lifts his skirt up slightly, and Woojin can’t help but swallow the lump in his throat at the  _ slight  _ hint of the pale skin under the skirt.

If Woojin didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he’s absolutely confident, relishing in the fact that he’s in a skirt. But Woojin knows Jihoon like a book, knows the  _ right  _ buttons to push, knows the spots that would make Jihoon’s knees buckle—and he sees how beautifully red the tips of Jihoon’s ears are, and he can’t help but let the ends of his lips get tugged up to form a smile.

“You’re fucking  _ gorgeous _ , baby,” Woojin whispers. It’s meant to be soft and sweet, but the room is empty so it comes out louder and rougher than what he would have imagined. It doesn’t serve the original intention that he had, but perhaps, it isn’t that bad because Jihoon’s face is growing redder, and he’s tugging at the edge of his skirt. He can’t help but let his mind wander to the thought of fucking Jihoon in that skirt while clutching onto his clothed thighs, and it prompts him to say, “Call me  _ oppa. _ ”

“You’re so ridiculous,” Jihoon pouts. “I’m already wearing a skirt for you and you also want me to call you oppa?”

Woojin shrugs, “Shouldn’t it be a package deal?”

“Fine,” and then Jihoon’s tugging at Woojin’s tie to pull him closer, and he whispers right into Woojin’s ear, “ _ Fuck me, oppa. _ ”

Woojin can’t help but swallow the lump that he didn’t know was building up within his throat. It was so easy for him to get turned on by Park Jihoon, so easy for him to be tempted by the little devil. He wanted to draw it out, take it slow and teasing—but Jihoon’s lifting the edge of his skirt, and it’s so fucking alluring that Woojin doesn’t think that he’d be able to control him from taking Jihoon right there, and right now.

“ _ God _ ,” he growls and he’s wrapping his arms Jihoon’s waist. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I do,” Jihoon smirks, and then Woojin feels the way Jihoon’s hand travels downwards, and it stops right at the waistband of his pants. It’s so close, but so far—and it’s the  _ very  _ reason why Woojin feels like Jihoon’s touch is sinful fire. “Love you too, oppa.”

“And you know what to do, don’t you?”

And Woojin doesn’t have to wait for an answer because Jihoon’s already on his knees, teeth against the zipper of his pants. Woojin can’t help but groan at the image, nestling his fingers into Jihoon’s hair as Jihoon is purposefully slow at pulling the zipper down.

Jihoon almost has the zipper down entirely, but he stops to look up at Woojin through his eyelashes. Jihoon is so fucking beautiful even now, and Woojin just can’t quite grasp the idea that Jihoon is his. He knows what Jihoon wants him to say, wants him to say the words to egg him on, and Woojin does. “What are you waiting for, baby? It’s waiting for you.”

This time, Jihoon does pull the zipper entirely down, and he moves his hands to take the offending piece of cloth out of his way. It’s seconds later when Woojin feels the heat of Jihoon’s mouth, the way his tongue is licking all over the head of his dick languidly and lazily—but it’s also because it’s Jihoon that it makes the fire burn within him.

Jihoon starts off slow, and Woojin can’t help but get so entranced at how skilful Jihoon is at using his mouth, at how he’s sucking him off like there isn’t anything else in the world that’s worth it—that Woojin is special and he would  _ only  _ do this to Woojin. He tugs at the hair that’s gotten tangled together with his fingers, and he knows how Jihoon likes it, knows how it helps to get Jihoon more  _ into the mood _ , even though he doesn’t want to admit that he likes it too.

Jihoon is shy and takes his time to warm up, and Woojin knows all these—and also knows all the buttons to press to get Jihoon to do what he  _ really  _ wants to do, which is why he’s putting more force into the grip that he has on his hand. And Jihoon gets the message, because he’s now hollowing his cheeks, sucking harder at his dick and Woojin can’t help but thrust deeper into his mouth, deeper into the warmth and wet crevice.

“Ngh,” Woojin groans as Jihoon rises slightly to take a large breath of air. But when he doesn’t go back onto his cock, he opens his eyes—wait, when did he even close them?—to see a smirking Jihoon. “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” Jihoon explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He’s about to groan again, but Jihoon goes back down on his dick and he’s going all the  _ fucking  _ way down and Woojin feels his own cock hit the back of Jihoon’s throat. Jihoon pulls back a while later, and then he’s looking at Woojin, eyes telling him:  _ Fuck me _ . And Woojin does, giving hard thrusts into Jihoon’s mouth and he silently relishes in the way the tears are pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Woojin remembers the first time they had went a little  _ too  _ hard, and he was about to stop his ministrations until Jihoon had pulled him back, telling him, “Don’t stop.” And now, he doesn’t stop even when the tears are falling because Jihoon is a kinky little shit who enjoys everything, enjoys the slight pain that comes along when they are being rough with one another.

Woojin knows that he’s about to come, and he pulls away which makes Jihoon whine. It’s a good thing that he  _ did  _ listen to Jihoon’s suggestion of hitting the gym, because it’s getting easier for him to bring his hands down, cupping the back of Jihoon’s thighs (and god, the cotton feels  _ amazing  _ against his palms) to lift him up. He knows that Jihoon  _ likes  _ it whenever he’s a tad rough, when he goes on a brazen display of strength. He knows that Jihoon  _ loves  _ it whenever he’s dominant, and Woojin’s just so fucking whipped for Jihoon that he’d do anything for him.

Jihoon yips slightly, but he doesn’t do anything to resist Woojin’s grip, now that he understands why Woojin had pulled away. Instead, he wraps his arms around Woojin’s shoulders, and he stays pliant until Woojin reaches the dressing table and presses him against the counter.

“So, did you like that,  _ oppa _ ?” Jihoon looks back at him with a grin, wiping at the stray drool at the side of his mouth.

“What did you think?” Woojin raises a single eyebrow at him. “But it’s  _ my  _ turn now,  _ darling _ .”

With that, Woojin starts to stroke along the side of Jihoon’s body—making sure that it’s excruciatingly slow so that Jihoon feels the intensity of his touches. He pauses for a moment as his hands hit the edge of his skirt, and the whole situation just feels so fucking surreal. He had mentioned to Jihoon that he’d love to see him in a skirt as an off-handed remark, but he would never have expected Jihoon to actually  _ be  _ in one, just because Woojin said that he wanted to see him in one.

So he decides to relish in this moment, and he sneaks his hands under Jihoon’s skirt, and pulls down the briefs that Jihoon’s wearing. When Jihoon gives him a single raise of the eyebrow, Woojin explains, “I’m fucking you with the skirt on.”

Jihoon laughs. “You’re so  _ kinky _ .”

“Coming from the one who likes to choke on my dick?” Woojin places the briefs on the dressing table, and he gives a light smack against Jihoon’s butt. Jihoon whines at the contact of Woojin’s hand against his raw skin, but it’s a pleasurable whine, and Woojin can’t help but feel  _ proud  _ that he’s able to illicit such reactions from Jihoon.

“Alright, baby,” Woojin whispers into Jihoon’s ear, making sure to breath loudly so that he’d be able to see the way Jihoon shivers from the heat of his words. “Get ready.”

He’d love to see Jihoon suck on his fingers again, but something tells him that it’s about time for them to have rehearsals for their Nayana stage, so he presses his fingers into his mouth. It’s always faster for him to suck his own fingers, and it  _ is  _ because he’s pressing against Jihoon’s hole in the next moment.

It isn’t even the first time that they’re fucking because Jihoon is  _ always  _ tense. Woojin strokes at the side of his body, hoping that it’d help him relax and it probably does because Jihoon lets out a huge sigh, and then Woojin is pressing his finger in.

_ God,  _ it always feels so warm, enveloping and so fucking tight. He can’t tear his eyes away from the how Jihoon takes his fingers so well, no matter how it feels like he’d never be able to relax and take him in—but he ends up doing so, and Woojin feels nothing but accomplishment and pride at that. He raises his other hand to pet at Jihoon’s head, and it’s also that moment when he gets a glimpse of Jihoon’s face from the mirror.

Jihoon’s face is totally flushed red, and it’s the most beautiful sheen of red and pink that he’s ever seen. He’s breathing hard and loud, and when Jihoon meets his eyes in the mirror, he groans, “What the  _ fuck  _ do you want?”

“Nothing,” and Woojin does pet Jihoon’s head. “You know I just love to watch your expressions when you’re taking me in so well.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, and he’s such a fucking brat but Woojin is just so enamoured by him. If Jihoon is a maze, Woojin would willing go into the maze so that he’d be lost in him forever. “Just move the fuck on, idiot.”

Woojin presses a kiss to the top of his head as he’s pushing another finger to join the one that’s inside of him. It takes a while for Jihoon to get used to his middle finger, from the way Jihoon closes his eyes and his mouth opens up make soundless moans. He wants to hear Jihoon call out his name, the messiness and the heat of the moment hanging in the air—but he knows that they have to keep quiet, or else they’d risk getting discovered by someone who’s walking past the dressing room.

His fingers fall into an easy rhythm, and soon, Jihoon’s demanding for his dick. But Woojin isn’t stupid, knows that Jihoon’s just being one so that he’d be able to illicit everything that’s buried deep inside Woojin—and Woojin always falls for Jihoon’s actions. And it’s why he’s tugging at Jihoon’s hair, pulling him back hard so that he can meet Jihoon’s eyes. “You don’t call the shots here, baby.  _ I  _ do.”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon glares at him, and his lips look like he has been biting hard on them so that he’d be able to have some relief from the tension that’s being built up—and Woojin just wants to kiss him harder, so that they’d be more swollen, so that everyone can  _ see  _ who Jihoon  _ belongs  _ to when he’s done with him.

“ _ Baby _ , if you’ve forgotten,” Woojin releases his grip from Jihoon’s head, while lining his finger against Jihoon’s hole for added emphasis. “I’m doing the fucking here.”

“And, you know what to say if you want me to fuck you, baby.”

Jihoon bites at the bottom of his lip, like he’s hesitating to say the words that Woojin wants to hear. But Woojin knows Jihoon better than Jihoon probably knows himself—knows that it’s a bratty front that he puts up even though he wants Woojin inside of him. And Woojin loves nothing more than to egg him on, so that he can see the way Jihoon’s walls crumble away and fall into pieces as his raw self comes undone in front of him.

“ _ Oppa _ ,” Jihoon murmurs as he looks away from Woojin’s steely gaze in the mirror. But he raises his head again to meet Woojin’s eyes. “Please _ , please fuck me, oppa _ .”

“Anything for you, baby,” Woojin presses a kiss against his temple.

He remembers to reach into the back of his pocket for the condom that Jihoon had pressed into his hands as they snuck into the room, and it takes him a short while to open it up and pull it over his dick.

And then, he’s pushing inside of Jihoon and he can’t help but get overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside of Jihoon. It’s warm, wet and enveloping and it just feels so fucking amazing to be inside of Jihoon. And he knows that Jihoon probably feels the way too, from the way he has clenched his fist, biting against his knuckles to muffle the loud moans that would probably escape his mouth if he didn’t do so.

“God,” Woojin can’t help himself from moaning aloud, not when Jihoon’s taking him in so well and he just looks so beautiful as he’s getting wrecked by Woojin. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He knows that Jihoon would have smirked, but Woojin just gave a particularly hard thrust, and he yelps loudly instead. Then, Jihoon’s shivering and Woojin just wants to feel the way Jihoon shivers, and moans against his hands all over again.

So he does, and continues to thrust into Jihoon. It’s easy for him to find a steady rhythm, it comes like 1, 2 and 3 to him. and he revels in the way Jihoon shakes and then he’s begging him for more, “Oppa,  _ oppa,  _ just fucking touch me already.”

And Woojin can’t bring himself to deny Jihoon from whatever he wants. Not when Jihoon’s been such a fucking good boy so far, and Woojin likes to reward Jihoon. So he shifts his hand to wrap around Jihoon’s aching dick, and it must feel so fucking good to Jihoon because he arches his back while moaning  _ loudly  _ and Woojin can’t help but praise him, “You’re such a good boy.”

There’s nothing else but moans that reverberate in the empty room, as Woojin continues to thrust inside Jihoon while jerking him off at the same time and Jihoon tries to contain his moans to the best of his ability. Woojin knows that he’s about to come—it’s faster than what he’d have liked—but Jihoon  _ did  _ suck him earlier, and Woojin is always weak to Jihoon using his mouth around his dick.

He’s reaching the edge, about to tip over, and it’s when he can hear someone outside the dressing room, “Woojin! Jihoon! Where are you?” and it sounds like Jisung-hyung’s voice.

Fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the panic is evident in Jihoon’s voice. “Hurry up.”

Woojin feels his heart beating so quickly against his chest, at the very thought that Jisung-hyung could try to open this door, to check if they are in this dressing room only to see Woojin fucking Jihoon. The thought is terribly arousing, and Woojin feels himself relishing in  _ that  _ imagery, and he comes inside of Jihoon with a final thrust.

It’s also with that, that Jihoon comes into his hand (and parts of the skirt). Woojin can hear the door rumbling from where he is, and he can’t help but let his actions come to a still. Oh god. Please don’t let the door open. Please. Don’t. 

And God must be on his side, because the rumbling goes to a pause and he hears Jisung-hyung’s voice again, shouting for their names but it also sounds distant. 

“That was so fucking scary,” Jihoon spits out. It’s good that they are in a dressing room that has tissues, and it’s easy for Woojin to wipe the come off his hands before he pulls out of Jihoon. Also, condoms are great because it makes cleaning up less of a pain, and Woojin does everything he needs to do as soon as he can because he knows that Jisung-hyung would only call them if rehearsals are about to start.

“Tell me about that,” Woojin sighs as he ties the condom together, picks up the used tissues and throws them into the nearby dustbin.

When he turns back to face Jihoon, he’s greeted with a hug and it’s always nice that their post-sex ritual is all soft and warm cuddles. Woojin pulls back for a moment to give a soft kiss against Jihoon’s lips, and Jihoon opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, and Woojin can feel the residual taste of himself at the back of his mouth. 

It’s disgusting to taste himself, but it’s strangely alluring. But perhaps, it’s because it’s Jihoon, and Woojin just loves  _ all  _ of Jihoon.

“Alright,” Jihoon says, pulling away after a moment. “We got to go back to rehearsals.”

“Yeah,” Woojin nods. But then he’s lifting Jihoon in his arms, placing him on top of the dresser and burrowing his head under his skirt. “Just one last thing.”

He runs his fingers against the edge of Jihoon’s socks, and it just feels so fucking nice that Woojin is sure that he’d make Jihoon wear them in front of him again. He doesn’t forget to do the one thing that he’s been wanting to do ever since Jihoon was in the skirt, and he presses his lips to the soft skin in between the socks and Jihoon’s dick, sucks on the supple skin and makes sure that marks will be left.

And Jihoon moans loudly, without restraint and Woojin loves it.

 

—

 

When they get back to Wanna One’s waiting room, Seongwoo-hyung raises a single eyebrow at their matching mused hair, swollen lips and flushed faces. 

“So, that’s where you guys went, huh?” Seongwoo-hyung grins at them. “It’s so nice to be young.”

“Please stop talking, Seongwoo-hyung,” Jihoon replies, looking at the ground while trying to cover his burning cheeks with his fingers. God, Jihoon always gets so shy whenever the hyungs tease them and Woojin feels his heart getting warm with affection.

So, he pulls Jihoon closer to him to press a kiss to his forehead, wanting to whisper a “Love you too” but there’s something else that catches his attention.

He can feel the outline of Jihoon’s dick against his thigh.

Wow.

How did they forget about Jihoon’s briefs?

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it, maybe you could hit me up on my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/chamwink). feel free to follow me on my [sfw twitter](https://twitter.com/99izm) or my [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/chokerjihoon).


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